O. M. G. I am considering writing a letter to YMCA. I think they should change the name. Rather than Fit Moms, maybe they could call it Bootcamp (oh, yeah, for moms). Or Butt Burn because my butt literally feels like it’s on fire. Anything to more accurately describe the level of pain that will follow the weekly class.
So for those of you new to the world of Regina, I have a confession. I tend to run a few minutes behind. My husband might dispute how many is a few minutes but we won’t get into that. My ability to consistently show up 10 (to 15, ok, occasionally 25) minutes late has led some to accuse me of living on CP time. (If you need a lesson in CPT, see me after class.) I don’t know what the fuss is about. I mean, I show up. I do it in fabulous shoes. Is that not enough?! Anyway! So for once in my life, I was actually on time. Not early – let’s not get crazy – but on time. I, and 2 others (out of 10) were standing at the front when Beth walked up. She thanked us for being on time and then proceeded to tell us how she’d have to make sure the others understood how serious it is that we always start promptly. I may be cured from my tardiness. Just the thought of Beth teaching me a lesson…I have chill bumps.
So we do cardio for the next gut-wrenching, painful, burning 20 minutes. I know it doesn’t sound like much. Just you wait. At one point, Beth asked me if I felt it. I huffed between breaths, “yes” and she then asked where I was sweating. She said she needed to see me sweat or we’d have to keep going. I did go ahead and pull up my tank top and allow her the opportunity to touch my sweaty back. She laughed but declined my offer.
At this point my legs had all but turned to jelly. So what do we do? We go in the gym and do walking lunges and an “abduction” exercise. My first thought was “Halleluiah! Abduct me. Take me. Anything but more!” But no. This new form of torture consisted of me, an elastic band around my feet and the length of the gym. (Note: when Beth says “length of the gym” she means down and back. Don’t get confused and stop at the other end. You’ll not only be alone but she will then escort you back while telling you to hurry.)
Now I’m a small person. As much as I joke about the belly leftover from Brynna’s short stint living inside of me, I have a small frame. I have never been one to lift much weight. However. I got excited about weight lifting like it was Christmas and all I ever wanted was a 15lb dumb bell. All I could think was that it meant I could sit. So I sat and did my first set of dumb bell presses like a champ. Just as I was feeling good about myself, she appeared out of nowhere, snatched my perfectly good 12.5 lb weights and replaced them with 15 pounders. She told me she’d go easy on me today but I’m expected not to have anything less than 17.5 next time. I did some quick math and realized one thing. That’s 35lbs! Small frame, people! My little arms might snap like a twig in the middle of winter!
The good news is I have a week. The bad news is Beth asked how many times we’d been to the gym since last week and what our schedule for this week would be. And I fully believe that she has a list in her office of who’s been naughty or nice. Just working to stay off the naughtly list. That and not die. Simple goals. Baby steps.